Duty Bound
by bamgwire
Summary: Two strangers lose the person they loved most and find comfort in each other. Rated for grief theme. Oneshot.


**Duty Bound**

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"_Because wherever I sat - on the deck of a ship or at a street cafe in Paris or Bangkok - I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air_."  
\- Sylvia Plath, _The Bell Jar_

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Once, when she was young, her mother held her face and smiled. Hinata felt her tears dry looking at that smile, tears caused by the harsh whispers of clan elders.

"Hinata," her mother had chuckled warmly, "you _do_ have expressive eyes."

Somehow the very same words sounded different coming from her mother. The elders spat it, listing it as one of her many undesirable traits, perhaps the worst. Even at such a young age she knew it was unbecoming; the byakyugan allowed you to see everything, but it hadn't given her the ability to hide herself. She wanted to be more like Neji, who was aloof in every sense of the word, a Hyuga to behold. Her mother's words changed that.

She loved her mother even today, but she didn't remember much about the pain of losing her mother. She had been young, after all, and even the memory of that tearful embrace was shaky at best. But this…this Hinata knew she would never forget.

Lately her eyes felt more like filters. They turned all the colors in her world into grey. She eyed the walls around her, walls that seemed to get closer every time she looked. She remembered the days she spent within these walls with him. She remembered having to fight the urge to faint whenever his glowing blue eyes locked with hers and something like admiration shone in them. She remembered losing track of time, never having enough with him and staying later than she should, always resulting in a severe scolding by her father. She remembered his face, tinged with pink when he asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend. His dimpled grin when all she could do was nod her head. She remembered their first kiss, sweet and simple and everything she'd always dreamed of. She remembered their first _real_ kiss, hands over clothes, over skin, and the most beautiful expression of love she had ever known… She remembered her father and his ultimatums…giving up everything, throwing away all she'd known and not for a moment afraid of what might come. She remembered the first time he'd called this her home with two purple paint buckets in his hands. The feeling of belonging with someone, the nights she lay next to him and _knew_ that if there was a God, this must have been in His plan all along.

She remembered the slow and steady knocks on the door.

Their black garbs gave them away. She'd fallen to her knees in shock at the sight of them, unable to register their words. If someday she became demented, if she lost all her memories, if she couldn't recall her own name, she would still forever remember the sound of those knocks echoing through her empty home.

The wake, the well-wishers, the mourners…everything passed in a blur. The only moments that lasted were moments like these, when she was alone and she _felt_ it as if it were sentient, slowly drawing its fingers around her neck. The pressure, always enough to take her breath, but never quite enough to let her see him again…

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... 

Sasuke Uchiha had not felt fear since he was a child, and not for lack of reason. His life had not been a pleasant one, to put it mildly. He'd played a part to many a battle, seen the look in a man's eye when he meant to take your life, he'd even worn the look himself. None of those things had shaken him. And yet, simply standing in front of _this_ door, he felt a trepidation the likes of which he'd never known. Steeling his resolve was useless; there was nothing that was going to make this easy.

Truthfully, 'here' was the last place he wanted to be. In any other situation, that would be enough. He would leave and he wouldn't warrant the incident a single passing thought. But some things were sacred even to him…and the promise he made was one of the most important he'd made in his life. So with renewed purpose, he finally lifted his hand and rapped his fist quickly against the door.

Immediately he wondered how exactly he was going to greet her. Should he stick with his usual nonchalance? This hardly seemed the occasion, but he didn't have much else. He couldn't fathom why that dobe felt he was the man for this job, but he could hardly argue with him over it now.

The door opened to a sliver and he realized he was unprepared for the sight. Admittedly, he hadn't had much contact with the girl or even seen her enough to remember her face, but somehow he knew the dark bags under her eyes and limp hair that fell in a disarray were unnatural. She regarded him with those empty gray eyes, and he could do little but stare back.

They stayed like that for what could have been a minute or ten, until finally without a word she stepped away from the door, allowing him entrance. He gave her a curt nod and made his way inside. He was surprised when she presented him with a glass of water, but he took it without complaint and sat himself on the sofa.

"Thank you for coming," she said quietly, as if she'd been expecting him.

"…Hn." He shifted uncomfortably.

Wordlessly, she sat next to him did what she'd done with all the other passers-by; pulled out his photo album. He tensed.

"Don't." She eyed him in confusion. "I don't want to see those."

For a moment he supposed he may have offended her, but instead she only nodded solemnly and slid the album from her lap until it hit the floor with a lonely thud.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her low voice causing him to strain to hear.

He wasn't sure how to respond, didn't know if the truth would cheapen his visit. Naruto asked him to take care of her, but he had no idea what that entailed. He was about as put together as she was at this point, and even at his best he was no caretaker. Still, the silence was reaching deafening levels, so he decided to answer honestly.

"I promised."

She seemed to accept this with a silent _hm_. He was wholly unprepared for the complete breakdown that followed. She collapsed into herself. Even shaking with grief, her sobs were largely inaudible and he marveled for a moment how Naruto ever made it work with such a placid girl. He pushed the thought aside for more pressing matters, such as how exactly one goes about comforting a grieving girlfriend, especially one he hardly knew.

Empathy wasn't his strong suit, but it was easy to match her grief when he himself was suffering through it too. He settled for tentatively grasping her hand, hoping that she didn't take it as a pass to move into his arms. He was surprised when only squeezing his hand seemed to calm her; he was even more surprised when he found that he drew comfort in the contact as well. For the first time since watching his best friend die, Sasuke finally didn't feel so alone.

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**AN:** Just a short oneshot. Honest criticisms of the writing are much appreciated, hoping to improve over here :) Thank you for reading!


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